


Fairy

by orlesiantitans



Series: 100 Themes [23]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, M/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 04:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6408100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orlesiantitans/pseuds/orlesiantitans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carver had been attracted to her from the moment he saw her. Elves had always been a fascination to him; rare as they were in a small town, far away from the forests the Dalish so preferred.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fairy

**Author's Note:**

> Because I will never stop believing that Merrill is a literal fairy.

Carver had been attracted to her from the moment he saw her. Elves had always been a fascination to him; rare as they were in a small town, far away from the forests the Dalish so preferred. Aside from the occasional city elf traveling into Lothering, he’d never really seen any elves, let alone spoken to them.

 

And then his brother dragged him through the Wounded Coast, to meet an entire  _ clan  _ of elves. And his eye is almost immediately captured by the young woman they meet, innocence all too obvious, despite the blood magic she used. He found himself watching out for her all too often, throwing himself in front of blades to ensure they didn’t touch her, hoping in some part of his mind that it will rank him ahead of his brother in a way that had never occurred before. Girls were drawn almost automatically to Garrett, his easy demeanour attracting them in a way Carver’s bluntness never seemed to match. What seemed to make it worse was the Garrett would  _ never _ like the girls back. He made no secret of his interest in men, and somehow- instead of driving the girls  _ away _ \- it made them more attracted to him. The idea of a challenge, perhaps, drawing them in.

Merrill also seemed to hold that admiration for his brother, but as Carver continued his awkward attempts at flirting with her (trying to ignore the taunts that came from Isabela), she seemed to warm to him a little- even if she didn’t seem to grasp that he was interested in her romantically. Most of her responses were straight to her point- assuring him in no uncertain terms that the flirts had apparently shot right past her.

 

But he continued to try, stopping her from tripping over her own feet or stumbling into a group of bandits. She was delicate, seeming to float from place to place, and in some far away part of his mind Carver remembered the stories his mother used to tell him of the fae-folk, who lived in the forest and had wings. Of course, they were likely butchered tales about the Dalish, making them more than they were. But nevertheless, she had that way about her.

Then everything went to the Void.

 

The Wardens hadn’t been part of his plan. The plan was to get the money and make mother happy. Then, perhaps, he could have made a name for himself. Left Kirkwall, even, and joined the guard of a city that wasn’t under charge of Guard-Captain You-Don’t-Play-Well-With-Others. But instead, he got the Blight and ended up a Warden, plagued by nightmares. He was good at it, though, well-liked by the others he worked with. Each Darkspawn he killed was revenge for the sister he lost, and made him feel better if nothing else.

 

Merrill was driven from his mind. How could he think of her, think he could have a chance with her, when each second took him close to death? He had thirty years, more or less, Stroud had told him. He’d be dead at fifty, if he was ‘lucky’. He was  _ glad _ of the Wardens, of the opportunities they offered him. But being close to death did not allow for attachments, and so he kept himself distant. It was safer that way, for everyone.

 

The trip back to Kirkwall was insisted on by Stroud, apparently at the behest of the Warden-Commander. Carver hadn’t yet met Ferelden’s Queen, though he knew  _ of _ her. Of course he did; her name was on everyone’s lips. When he asked Stroud of her, the Warden had simply stated that she was an ‘admirable woman’ with an odd turn to his lips- no doubt the question of how she’d survived bothering him as much as it did everyone in the Order. Neither she nor the King had died- and it didn’t make sense. No answers had- as of yet- been recovered. So all they could do was assume that Her Majesty was, indeed, innocent, and pray that they were not proven wrong.

 

Seeing his brother and his friends was a surprise. The pain he felt when Garrett mentioned their mother’s death, and the fact he could only say that he was certain his brother had ‘done his best’. He didn’t doubt that he had, of course. Garrett  _ did  _ try his best when it came to family. It didn’t mean his best was enough, however.

 

And Merrill, standing small and seemingly mildly terrified behind Garrett, who kept shooting glances at Fenris. Of course he and the elf had gotten together- it was hardly a surprise. Carver was many things- blind was not one of them. And Varric, though Carver wondered briefly what he was doing there. Not that the dwarf was incapable- far from it- just that Isabela was generally the rogue Garrett preferred to take. He had no time for discussion, however. He had to get to Markham for the next leg of their assignment. They were gone quickly, leaving his brother and friends behind them.

 

He received a letter from Merrill not long after. It detailed why the events in Kirkwall had occurred, that Isabela had stolen a relic, and he drafted his own reply- a few pages talking about the non-secretive things he was doing, and the amusing things he’d seen occurring between some of the fresh recruits and the senior members of the Wardens. The letter exchanges became more frequent, and it wasn’t long before he found himself back in Kirkwall- saving his brother from his friend’s stupidity. And then in Merrill’s bed, slim hand trailing down his neck and chest, past his abs and to the waistband of his breeches. She seemed to  _ glow _ in the soft sun shining in from the window, and he marvelled at her, tracing out his admiration and desire on her skin, whispering words of praise and awe against her stomach as he kissed lower,  _ lower _ .

They lay together afterwards, her body small and lithe in his arms. He wanted to protect her again, but had come to learn that she could protect herself- and there was no use in trying to take care of someone who didn’t need it. So instead he held her in his arms, kissing the top of her head. She laughed, and it was like the windchimes in his garden as a child. He remembered Bethany, manipulating the air to make them move. A simple trick, but one that had put a smile on his face, with her magic and her innocence. In some ways, Merrill was like his sister- but is both more delicate and stronger, more determined. He smirked against her hair, and she sighed.

 

“I hope this isn’t a fling. It isn’t, is it? Humans do more than that, don’t they?”

 

He laughed, “Have you been paying attention to my brother and Fenris?”

 

Her slight look of bewilderment spoke volumes- apparently she’d misinterpreted  _ that  _ relationship _ \-  _ and he laughed.

 

“If you want more than a fling, it’s more than a fling. Not that I can guarantee much- the Wardens demand a lot.”

 

She assured him that she didn’t care, and when he next had to leave he pressed a kiss to the back of her fingers and smiled at her giggle.

  
While travelling the Anderfels, he came across a book of children’s tales. He bookmarked the one about the fae-folk, which sounded like a romanticized fiction of the Dalish, and sent it to her. If nothing else, she’d get a laugh out of it.


End file.
